


Warm Sadness in Her Eyes

by sohardtopickaname



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bedsharing, Caring, F/M, POV Jaime Lannister, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 21:24:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohardtopickaname/pseuds/sohardtopickaname
Summary: Rejected by Cersei upon his arrival in King's Landing, Jaime needs a friend to talk to and finds one in Brienne. He also learns a secret he isn't ready to learn.





	Warm Sadness in Her Eyes

He was restless. Angry. Ashamed. Alone.

There was nobody he could talk to. _Father, my sister finds me disgusting and doesn’t want to sleep with me anymore, can you offer any advice_? That would certainly go well. Tyrion... Tyrion would make sure to mock him and his stupid hopes, his stupid loyalty, his stupid faithfulness. _That’s what people have friends for_, he thought, but he was a Lannister. Lannisters don’t have friends, they only have their family. Thus, he didn’t have friends. Except maybe...

Brienne. She was a friend. And she _knew_. He could talk to Brienne.

She didn’t open the door right away, only after he said it was him. Good, safer that way. He closed the door behind him and sat on the floor. Slumped, rather, his knees giving way under her concerned gaze.

He told her then. It all came out in a spurt, like blood gushing out of a mortal wound, and she sat on the floor beside him and listened. After the last word dropped out of his mouth, she pulled up what felt like his empty frame and dragged it to her bed. Warm. She must have spent some time in it before he knocked on her door. She tucked him in, and wiped his tears, and stroke his hair. He fell asleep feeling her hand caressing his right arm just above the stump.

He woke up in the darkness, in the room he didn’t know existed in the Red Keep. Then he saw a large dark shape on the floor and remembered the hand on his arm and warm sadness in the blue eyes looking at him. Of course, she would sleep on the floor, only that stinky joke of a bedroll the Bolton men gave her separating her body from the coldness of the marble floor. He couldn’t let her stay there; she would be sore in the morning after sleeping like that. He couldn’t bring himself to waking her up either.

He was strong enough, he told her that himself, so he carefully turned her onto her back and stood on one knee, sliding his left arm under her knees and what was left of his right arm under her shoulders. She stirred and murmured something but didn’t wake up. Good. He stood up slowly, lifting her body and adjusting his grip, took a few steps and put her on the bed. Looked back at the bedroll and winced in disgust. He climbed into bed, gently pushing Brienne towards the wall with his hip, and suddenly heard a soft murmur and felt her hand on his waist. And then her cheek on his chest. And then her thigh on his own thigh. And then the unmistakable sound of his name fell off her lips.

He felt a hot wave of shame rush through his body as the weight of her secret fell onto his shoulders. She was in love with him. She knew everything there was to know about him and was still in love with him. She saw him covered in filth, she _touched_ that filth, she _cleaned_ that filth. She endured weeks of his insults, adding to the years of insults she had endured before. Just hours earlier, she listened to him talk about Cersei, about his _love_ for Cersei, about his _need_ for Cersei, about his _want_ for Cersei. The warm sadness in her eyes made sense now.

What could he do, wake her up with a kiss? It was tempting, her body pressed into his so earnestly and yet so innocently. And she would probably smile. She smiled at him once, in the morning, when they just walked through the city gates. He turned to her, suddenly fearful, and she looked at him with that warm sadness in her eyes and smiled reassuringly. He wanted to see that smile again, or maybe a different smile of hers. But then what?

He could leave right then, leaving her alone in her bed, but to do that he would have to push her off his chest first. If she woke up as he would be doing that, she would probably be mortified. It would be too cruel. And difficult, too, with her body pressed into his so earnestly and yet so innocently.

He should let her wake up first and get off him, believing her secret to be safe. And he should never talk to her about Cersei again. And he should get her a new bedroll, a good one, to take with her when she leaves. And something to wear around. A dress, perhaps? Something blue, to match her eyes? He could make arrangements in the morning. And she would need armor, proper armor, not that old pathetic breastplate they bought at some cheap inn. A sword, too, except it wouldn’t be easy to find a sword worthy of her. Only Valyrian steel would be worthy, but they don’t make those anymore.

\- I will never hurt you, - he whispered into her hair.

Then he closed his eyes and imagined the way she would smile if he woke her up with a kiss.


End file.
